The Problem With Pretty-Boys
by NaughtyPigeon
Summary: When Chica finds herself falling in love with Bonnie, the Pretty-Boy, she thinks things will go her way - until he trusts her with the secret of his sexuality. Oh dear. [Contains yaoi. Teen/Human AU. This is also up on my DeviantART page.]
1. Chapter 1

Bonnie was, by all means, a Pretty-Boy - the only difference being that nobody really found him pretty, just oddly alluring in his own strange way.

When he was younger, about ten or so, he was always told how weird he looked. He had two teeth that were longer than the rest and poked out slightly, he had black hair that was somehow tinted purple from birth, and he refused to take off his red sunglasses. He was pale and scrawny, the opposite of 'hot'.

That changed when he turned thirteen.

All of a sudden, he was the thing to get. People stopped trading Pokémon cards with him and started trading phone numbers; the girls that used to snicker at him found him oddly attractive in his own way. He was now freakishly tall, but less scrawny, and his skin was less white and more of a pale yellowish-peach. He'd finally take off his glasses every so often and wink at them with his pale blue eyes.

Chica fell for him pretty quickly.

That wouldn't be a problem if he weren't... well... Bonnie. He'd throw a wink at you or throw his arm over your shoulder or full-on flirt to get what he wanted. Girls older and younger than him would fall for his devilish charm and tell him all of their secrets.

Girls of all ages started avoiding him, and it wasn't just him. His older and younger brothers would wink and flirt and laugh in the same seductive way at any girl that passed by.

Oh boy.

It isn't exactly easy, falling for someone who you know will throw inappropriate glances at waitresses on dates, or who will spew innuendos at your wedding reception - not that she planned on marrying him, heh.

And that's not all.

"Chicaaaaa~!" he cooed, grinning his gorgeous, perfect smile. "I have some good news, hun."

Another annoying but alluring feature - nicknaming.

"What is it, Bonnie?" she smiled sweetly, pretending that she wasn't crossing her fingers behind her back. Did he like her? Was he in love with her too? Did he WANT her?

"Don't laugh. If you laugh, we won't be able to be friends."

She knew it was something way different at the tone of his voice. He was deadly serious, as joking as he was being with the matter. She uncrossed her fingers and crossed them over her heart. "Promise, Bon."

He gulped in some air and pulled off his glasses, his blue eyes staring into hers. He sighed after a few minutes, and simply stated his issue.

"Chica... I think... I think I'm gay."


	2. Chapter 2

"W-What?"

Her whole world was suddenly flipped upside down as his deadly-serious blue eyes met her lilac ones.

She thought she knew every detail about her flirty, dirty-minded, guitar-playing best friend. She thought she knew every secret he'd ever had.

Apparently not.

"I'm gay." he sighed, slipping into the booth that she was in and sipping his milkshake. He took a moment to lick the whipped cream off his lips afterwards and sighed. "I knew you wouldn't take it well."

"No, no, I'm fine with it," she quickly replied. "It's just... you wouldn't expect... you flirt with everyone! Even me!"

He laughed. "Manipulative flirtation, as I call it, is a legitimate method of getting everything you want. My older brother's boyfriend taught me. But anyway..." he leaned forwards. "I need your help, Chloe."

She internally winced at the mention of her real name, but hid it with a cocky smirk. "Whatever you want, Benjamin."

He grunted, before sighing and faceplanting, an indecipherable mumble coming out of his lips.

"Sorry, what was that?" Chica raised an eyebrow, swiping his milkshake from his hand and sipping it, taking another bite of her double cheeseburger.

He sighed and sat up. "I have a crush on... him."

Oh.

Oh dear.

Who was 'him'? Well, 'him' was basically the class rep, but way stranger. He had chocolate-brown hair and icy blue eyes that looked like they could stab you with a single glance. He didn't talk to them much, as he was always hanging out with his best friend, an athlete called Finn, but he was easy to spot in a crowd.

He never quite looked like everyone else - he wasn't pale and tall, he was tan and average-looking. He always wore a black beanie and hoodie, and, on the occasions that he did talk to them, he had a voice like melted butter.

Smooth. Comforting. You just want to pour it over your naked body and make out with your pillow.

Okay, maybe not the last one, but you get the idea.

"Freddy Fazbear?!" she yelled. "You... you... FREDDY?!"

"Shut up! He might be here!"

"There's no way he's here!"

"Who're you on about?"

They turned around with lighting-speed, meeting the gaze of a certain buttery-voiced, brown-haired teen, who was sipping his salted-caramel milkshake with interest.

Oh boy.


End file.
